


Second Chance

by TameAVagrantLion



Category: The Alienist (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Gen, One Shot, Short & Sweet, good ol' fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TameAVagrantLion/pseuds/TameAVagrantLion
Summary: John Moore will not make the same mistake twice.a.k.a the very short & fluffy post-finale scene between John and Joseph that I was robbed of because the showrunners have no heart :) Enjoy!





	Second Chance

John Moore was sitting on a carriage he’d just stolen from Sara Howard with the dumbest smile on his lips. There was something so promising in the way she had looked at him. Of course he would wait for her, he thought, she was worth that and more.

Suddenly, his thoughts of a potential future were instantly interrupted when the carriage came to an abrupt stop. They had reached their destination. John’s smile disappeared as he looked up at the façade of the Children’s Hospital were Joseph had been taken. John was sure that, after he came to and the authorities examined him, he would be thrown back to the streets without a single word of comfort or affection. He could not let that happen. He would make sure the first face the boy saw when he woke up was a friendly one, and that he would never have to walk the corners or set foot in one of those underground hell holes ever again.

Upon arriving, John was led through the oldest part of the building to a small room. He was not even asked if he was a parent or relative before being let in. It was evident how little they cared for an orphan and boy whore.

 _Don’t you worry, Joseph. Someone cares_.

John’s heart sunk when he saw him lying there unconscious and alone. He was stick thin and pale as the white sheets that covered him. The resemblance to the many corpses he’d had to visit the last months was clear enough to make his stomach turn.

John approached the bed, eager to talk to the boy, and placed a hand upon his messy curls. He dared not imagine the nine days of horror he had suffered. It was best to leave him to rest, he decided, so he grabbed the rusty metal chair next to the bed and sat down. As soon as he did so, the exhaustion of the night fell upon him, and his head fell forward. The last thought that crossed his mind before falling asleep was one of gratefulness, for having been given a second chance to make things right.

 

* * *

 

 

Joseph woke up crying, the remnants of a horrible memory haunting his sleep. At first, all he could hear was his own voice, hoarse from the cries, but then he noticed the soothing words in the background. The sound felt familiar, and so he opened his eyes to find himself out of the dark tunnels, with Mr. Moore by his side. He felt instantly calmer.

“Joseph, It’s okay. It’s over. You’re okay”, he was repeating over and over, until Joseph’s trembling stopped.

“Mr. Moore”, Joseph said, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”. The feeling of having disappointed the man was as strong as his relief at finding himself free from the killer’s hands.

“Nothing to feel sorry about. Everything’s okay”, Moore repeated.

“You told me to go to a rescue society, or a... or a boarding house, I should have listened”.

New tears were threatening to fall again. This time from Mr. Moore’s eyes.

“No, it was my fault.” He said vehemently. “And it won’t happen again”.

Joseph nodded in agreement, drying his nose on his sleeve.

“Yes, of course. I promise to be more careful from now on”. The young boy said, looking down at his lap.

John smiled.

“I know you will. No ward of mine will be wandering the streets alone at night”.

Joseph looked at him, puzzled.

“Ward?” He asked, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

“An apprentice”, tried the older man.

Joseph still did not follow. He shook his head and shrug his skinny shoulders.

“Joseph, I would like to take you in, legally.”

Joseph lit up. He sat straighter in the bed, excited.

“Oh, you mean I would work for you?” he said. Mr. Moore was sure to be a much kinder boss than any other before him. Even though he would miss his boys, _his girls_ , Joseph would walk away without looking back in a second. However, Mr. Moore interrupted his enthusiastic train of thought to correct him.

“No, not exactly. You would reside in my home, and I would teach you my trade and take care of you”, Moore replied.

Joseph did not understand the notion. What was Mr. Moore to gain from an arrangement like that? He was willing to clothe him, feed him, and teach him… in exchange for what?

Joseph had many questions but decided to voice the least of his concerns.

“What if I’m no good at sketching?”, he asked.

Mr. Moore chuckled, and feigned offense, “Do you doubt my teaching skills?”.

Joseph laughed at that but did not argue further. He realized he was indebted to Mr. Moore and decided that he would find a way to give back what he owed him, someday, somehow.

“Come on, now. Get dressed.” John said.

“Where are we going?” asked Joseph, always curious.

“I’d like for my friend Dr. Kreizler to see you”.

“But I have just seen the doctors!”, Joseph protested. “I am not hurt, nothing aches”.

“He is not that kind of doctor”, was all he replied.

“I’ll be waiting just outside, all right?”, Mr. Moore then said, opening the door to leave. Just before he did so, Joseph called out to him one more time.

“And after that we’ll go to your home?” he asked. He wondered what it would be like. Mr. Moore was not rich, but Joseph would follow him to the very dirtiest of New York slums if he had to.

Mr. Moore turned to face him with a smile.

“ _Our_ home, yes, Joseph”. He said.

Joseph replied with a beaming smile of his own. The first genuine one in a long time.

“Call me Joe!” he exclaimed just as John was closing the door.


End file.
